


Crescendo

by bananablunder



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananablunder/pseuds/bananablunder
Summary: This takes place a few weeks into Raelle and Abigail returning to Fort Salem. They were held off in a secluded part of the base but finally get permission to roam around. Raelle thinks Scylla is dead- Scylla thinks Raelle is dead. This is a story of them discovering about their survival through the "S" scar.
Relationships: Raelle Collar & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic ever and Motherland is my first fandom that I am a part of. I appreciate anyone that will take the time to read this. Feel free to let me know what you think- I'm a very rusty writer and have rarely done fiction writing.  
> Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

In a dimly lit rough room with privacy stands that reeked of an old hospital along with the musty smell of damp floors and the gloomy aura emitting from the fragmented walls of the torn building . The far left corner of the old gym has been sectioned off to provide a makeshift infirmary that doubled as the new sleeping quarters for Abigail and Raelle. 

It was a brisk Wednesday morning, exactly three weeks after returning to Fort Salem- Raelle has been unconscious for three days. A mixture of exhaustion, over exertion and fatigue combined with a numbingly confusing experience for the past few weeks has taken its toll; her body has become weak from the testing and training done under General Alder’s commands in order to study and gain a deeper understanding of the bomb-like explosion that occurred during the Tarim extraction.

Raelle weakly opens her eyes to a view of her skeleton-like bed, the rusty metal overtaking the eggshell colored paint that once was. 

“Nice of you to join us shitbird.” Abigail says boldly while maintaining a cautious glance towards Raelle. She hopes that the three days were able to bring Raelle a semblance of peace after their tumultuous journey through the woods but she can’t help but feel just as defeated. She was determined to keep that as far from the surface as possible- after all, Abigail was still a leader and she was there to support her unit. What was left of it anyway.

Raelle coughs quietly, her breath cuts her throat like shards of glass digging at her skin as she exhales through her parched mouth; she reaches up to her temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing headache that she woke up to. Her joints feel the lingering soreness from the almost ritualistic training routine set upon them. She lightly winces in pain as the soreness from her ribs slowly emerges at the smallest of movements. She remembers being thrown across the room after a failed attempt to duplicate the witch-bomb explosion. 

“What happened?...” Raelle asks disoriented.

Abigail sits up, and turns to face Raelle- she drops her legs over the side of the bed. Abigail leans forward, placing her elbows on her knees and gently resting her chin on her hands. She looks worn and tired. 

Abigail takes a deep breath, lifting the bags under her eyes with her. 

“You passed out for a few days. They said it was fatigue.”

Raelle stares blankly, she doesn’t like seeing her sister like this. Why was everything happening to them? Even though they have been back for a few weeks, Raelle has failed to dedicate time in order to sort through her emotions, experiences and potential trauma- deep down Raelle knew that a part of her wanted to feel numb for a little longer. During their isolation in the forest, Abigail and Raelle were only capable of focusing on their survival. Upon their return to Fort Salem they were barraged with an array of questions- _How are you not dead? What was that explosion? How did it happen? Can you do it again?_

Raelle finally musters up words through her cotton-mouth “Wait, who are _you_?” Raelle immediately looks over as the soft smile drops from Abigail’s face while she jerks up- Raelle simultaneously lifts a weakened smirk.

Abigail catches a glimpse of Raelle’s subtle attempt to lessen the severity of their caged emotions and war torn bodies.

“Oh,” She exclaims, in the sassy tone Raelle was used to hearing all throughout basic “shitbird has jokes now?” Abigail finishes the question trailing into a tender giggle. 

Raelle joins her.

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
